


Reflex

by emmaliza



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Oral Sex, robb has no gag reflex, theon is surprised but appreciative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 08:53:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13004202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaliza/pseuds/emmaliza
Summary: Of all the talents the gods blessed Robb with, Theon wasn't expecting this one.





	Reflex

“I'm tired.”

Theon smirks as Robb, without introduction, swings open the door to Theon's chambers and plants himself face-first on the foot of Theon's bed. The boy's lucky he didn't come back here to find Theon with a girl, but Theon opts not to hold it against him. “Not surprised,” he says, leaning back against his headboard, shirtless, his modesty preserved by the furs pooling in his lap – Robb doesn't need to know what may or may not be covering him otherwise. “Your lord father and lady mother don't usually keep you up this late. Even I thought it was time for an early night before you managed to escape.”

Not looking up, Robb groans into the bed covers. “It was a feast. I had to be there.”

Theon sighs. “Of course. Poor little lordling.” He's never quite sure how sarcastically he means that. “You could have just pretended to be sick and got out of it that way.”

Robb finally looks up at him, and pulls a face. “Mother can always telling when I'm playing sick.”

Theon blinks in surprise. He didn't think it was like Robb to have tried lying to his mother enough times to find out. He blinks and thinks this over a moment. “Have you tried making yourself be sick?” he suggests. “It'd pretty hard for anyone to claim you we're malingering when they can hear you gagging in the next room.”

Robb seems confused. “And I would do that... how?”

“...Well drinking a lot is my preferred option,” says Theon, “but I assumed you were aiming for a plan that wouldn't make your parents mad at you. So the easy way is just to stick your fingers down your throat.”

“Why would that make me gag?”

Theon blinks at him. “Because it makes everyone gag?” he says, and Robb looks bewildered. “Well, except some very practiced – really, do you not know that?”

Robb bites his lip and shrugs uncomfortably. “Well, it's never happened to me,” he says, “although I'm not sure how many times I've stuck my fingers down my throat anyway.”

He doesn't want to, but it's hard for Theon not to think about the times he's stuck his fingers down his throat, and what he tried not to acknowledge he was thinking about. It was a relief he gagged too much to keep it up very long. He gulps, and shakes his head. This isn't about him, it's about Robb. “It's just a thing bodies do, the same way they make you laugh when you're tickled,” he says, and Robb still looks suspicious. “Here, I'll show you.”

Not thinking straight, Theon opens his mouth and pushes two fingers in. Sure enough, as soon as his fingers get anywhere near the back of his throat his stomach starts lurching up in protest. Once they actually hit the back of his throat, he starts to cough and splutter pathetically, but he keeps them there as long as he can, just to prove the point to Robb. He only pulls them out once he feels like he's actually going to be sick.

Once he does, wiping his fingers clean on the furs, he realises just how wide Robb's eyes have gone, the way the boy is staring at him. Theon only then realises what a stupid gesture that was to make. Fuck, what would he think of a girl who did that in front of him? He tries to shake the thought away, and ignore the heat flooding beneath his skin. He coughs again. “Okay, now you.”

“Wait, what?”

Theon chuckles as Robb blinks at him, caught off guard. Subtly, he presses his legs together. “Come on, I want to see if you're really the freak of nature you say you are. Go on, it's only fair.”

Robb sighs as if Theon's being ridiculous, but he doesn't protest. He parts his lips and awkwardly, clumsily, places two fingers between them. Theon squeezes his legs together a little tighter. Robb still looks suspicious as he buries his two fingers down to the first knuckle. Then Theon watches as he pushes them deeper, as far as he can, swallowing them whole and–

Nothing.

Robb, still looking quite confused, wriggles them back and forth in his mouth, but he never seems affected. He lets out a little huff of frustration, and then slips a third one inside, as if that will do something, but his throat still doesn't react. It can handle having something shoved down it just fine.

Theon hopes Robb didn't hear the quiet, embarrassing groan he just let out. He can feel a throbbing between his legs though as he watches Robb mouth at his own fingers, futilely trying to make himself gag. _Shit._

It's take a long time for Robb to give up, until Theon's about to beg him to stop, before he drives Theon mad. Eventually though, he does slowly, reluctantly pull his fingers away. “See, it just doesn't work,” he says, and then the tilts his head to the side, examining the look on Theon's face. “Theon, are you alright?”

Theon snaps his jaw shut, trying to keep his head from spinning. It isn't working. “You must not have done it right,” he croaks out. “Here.”

Before he knows it he's scrambling up across the bed, over to Robb, and pressing his fingers to the boy's mouth. Robb looks surprised, but he acquiesces easily, letting Theon slide the digits over his wet tongue. It's only then Theon remembers that he was naked beneath the furs, and now there's nothing concealing him, when he must be at least half-hard if not all the way there. But Robb says nothing as Theon's fingers pry down his throat, indeed he closes his eyes, sucking gently as he lets Theon push as deep as he likes.

Even Theon can't fool himself he's not aroused by this, by having his fingers down Robb Stark's throat, by Robb taking it better and deeper than any girl who's face he's ever fucked, by Robb sucking his digits whole and making him imagine what it would feel like to have him sucking something something else like that. His cock twitches so hard he barely resists the impulse to reach down and stroke himself with his spare hand. Shit, what has he gotten himself into?

When he finally manages to pull his fingers back out, Robb lets out a small noise almost like he's disappointed. That doesn't help at all Theon's attempts to get his dick back under control. They're left staring at each other, Theon panting for breath as much as Robb is, hard and wanting and scared. Eventually, there's only one thing he can do to break the tension.

He laughs.

As he wipes his fingers clean on the furs, he chuckles at Robb chewing his lips in front of them. “Well Stark, of all the talents the gods have blessed you with, I wasn't expecting that one,” he says breezily, doing his utmost to act like his rock-hard erection isn't bobbing in the air for all the world – or Robb, which right now might be one and the same, at least to him – to see. “Might be a waste on the future Lord of Winterfell though. There are plenty of whores out there who'd give their left arm for that skill. Are you sure the gods didn't give you some rentboy's throat by mistake?”

Robb blushes deeply, but he chuckles, his eyes dropping down to the bedspread. Unfortunately as his eyes drop down the slide over Theon's cock, and then they get stuck there, and then the boy is just flat out fucking staring, and biting his lip again. “Theon–”

At least Robb can't see the way Theon blushes in turn, and he shuffles back a little on his knees, knowing he should try and escape but not sure he wants to. “Right, now it's getting late, so you ought to be a good little boy and run along back to your own chambers before your lord father–”

But suddenly there's a hand on his cock, squeezing him tight and making it impossible for him to keep talking, impossible to do anything but gasp embarrassingly loudly, not sounding at all like himself. Robb wastes no time starting to stroke him, panting a little as he does so, setting a quick, rough, slightly awkward pace – Theon imagines he's only ever practiced on himself. But, he quickly gathers, Robb must practice a lot, because he's _good_ – he seems instinctively able to find every spot that makes Theon's knees go weak, and has him moaning pathetically and bucking into his grip within seconds. Meanwhile, Theon's still desperately trying to understand what's going on.

“I'll suck you off if you want me to,” Robb whispers as he traces his fingers over the slit of Theon's cock, and Theon stutters over nothing as his hips lurch forward, almost choking on his own tongue.

“Robb–”

Robb takes that as all the permission he needs, lowering himself back down to the bed while he lowers his hand to the base of Theon's cock, grasping it as he wraps his lips around the head. Theon moans as he feels those lips, full, red and beautiful, close around his length. Robb echoes him. _He's sucking me off,_ Theon thinks, trying to make it sink through to him. _Robb Stark is sucking me off._

He looks down and watches as Robb swallows the first couple of inches of his cock, stroking the rest of his length, eyes shut in bliss. As he starts to comprehend what is happening, Theon grows increasingly annoyed that Robb managed to catch him off-guard like that, when he's not the one who's never even had his cock sucked before. He should do something about that.

As Robb swallows his length half-way, starting to suck him harder and faster, giving in to his own greed, Theon winds the fingers of one hand through his hair and pushes him down, hard, without warning. Robb gasps, but of course he doesn't gag. “Come on baby, I know you can do better than that,” Theon cooes as he forces his way down Robb's throat. “I want to see you use that whore's mouth to swallow me whole. I know you can do it.”

He wonders if Robb will protest being called a whore like that, even if technically Theon only called his mouth a whore, but instead Robb just moans and moves his hand further up to cradle Theon's balls, letting Theon thrust as deep into him as he likes. Theon watches as Robb lifts his hips up off the furs, and then he sneaks his spare hand beneath the waist of his breeches, the breeches he's still wearing.

Theon lets out a surprised chuckle. It seems the little lord likes it rough, and dirty.

“Do you want that, Robb?” he asks as he thrusts in deeper, urging Robb on with two hands in hair, pushing him so far down even the most practiced whore would be choking. “Do you want my cock all the way down your throat? Fuck, such natural skill, it'll be a waste if no-one used it. Used you. Shit, Stark, you look like such a slut, swallowing me so deep. Do you like that? Do you like feeling like a whore with an open throat?”

Robb can't exactly answer, but he can moan and desperately fist himself in his breeches, barely keeping himself propped up enough on his elbow to manage it. Theon thinks he can interpret that. The thrusts into Robb's mouth brazenly, recklessly, thinking of nothing but getting that wet, tight mouth around as much of his dick as possible, and it seems a lot of his dick is possible. But still, right now, a couple of inches are still outside the grasp of Robb's lips.

Theon runs his hands through Robb's hair softly now, comfortingly. He slows the pace of his thrusts. “Are you ready to take it all now, love?” he asks, and he almost trips over his own words, gets stuck worrying about the endearment. But he forces himself not to. Robb's blazing blue eyes pop open. “Do you want every inch of my cock in your mouth?”

Robb, still sucking hard and his eyes still searing a hole into Theon, nods.

Theon groans and tightens his grasp of Robb's hair, pushing him down. Down, down, as far as he can go. He keeps expecting to hear the boy gag, to feel him push away, but instead there's nothing but a tight throat closing around ever more of his length. Robb doesn't even close his eyes, instead he looks up and meets Theon's as Theon fucks his face, and Theon can't say he's ever seen anyone more beautiful. “Drowned God,” he whispers as he buries himself down to his balls, Robb moaning and stroking himself faster as he takes the last inch, and Theon gasps as he finally feels himself swallowed whole. “ _Oh_.”

He can't keep thrusting, he can't keep moving, he can't do anything but stay there and tremble at the sheer overwhelming pleasure of Robb's mouth around him. “ _Ohhh_.” It's up to Robb to do all the work; his cheeks hollow around the length, although Theon can hardly see it past his balls, as he sucks Theon hard and fast and utterly shameless, as good as anyone who'd been practicing for years. Theon gasps and whines and tugs frantically at his hair as the boy pushes him toward the brink. “Oh, Robb, fuck, good, Robb–”

Theon feels the shudder run up his spine and barely manages to pull back in time, spending half in Robb's mouth and half out of it, leaving a mess across his tongue and chin. Robb gasps and fists himself even faster at that, still sucking at the head of Theon's cock while his hand returns to stroking the length, wringing the last drops out of him. Theon moans through his aftershocks, throws his head back and lets Robb do as he will, and before long Robb lets out a strangled cry around his cock, and he can feel the boy shake as he spends in his breeches.

Eventually, Robb lets go of Theon's cock with a pop, and Theon's left trying to get his breath back and to figure out what to do now. The easiest thing it seems is to collapse back against the headboard, and so Theon does so, exhausted. When he looks across the bed though, he sees Robb is still perched at the end of it, staring at him, and so he smiles. “Oi. You. Over here. I need cuddling after I come.”

Robb chuckles and quickly crawls over to Theon's side, only barely remembering to wipe his chin before he lies down and lays his head on Theon's chest. “The things I do for you,” he mutters, and then he immediately undermines himself by saying: “you know, you could have come in my mouth if you liked. I wouldn't have minded.”

Theon raises an eyebrow, and from the way Robb blushes, he suspects 'not minded' is an understatement. Still, he shrugs. “Well, if you can't gag it up properly, I didn't want to take the risk of it going the wrong way down you. At some point Stark, I might say I want to drown you in come, but I want you to know I don't mean it literally.”

Maybe they should talk about more than this, maybe they should explore the idea things are different between them now and this might just happen again, but Theon's never done that, no matter how many times he's fucked. He doesn't know how. And Robb doesn't push him; he just smiles and leans into Theon's neck. “I guess you're right,” he says. “After I figured I didn't have the reflex, I could practice sucking cock pretty easily, but I couldn't–”

Robb cuts himself off, realising he's said too much, but it's too late. Theon's jaw drops open a moment – and then he laughs.

“You little cheat!” he says, and slaps the boy's arm playfully. “You acted like you didn't even know you couldn't gag. I thought you said you couldn't lie?”

Robb rolls his eyes. “I said my mother could always tell when I'm lying, not you,” he says. Then he breaks into a grin. “Besides, I only did it so I could get your cock in my mouth. I thought you'd think that was a cause worth lying for.”

“...Alright, fair enough. I am somewhat predisposed to agree with you on that,” he says. Robb chuckles. “Though you have put me in a bit of a bind here.”

Robb tilts his head to the side, puzzled. “How so?”

“Well if I want to return the favour, you're going to be really hard to impress.”

 


End file.
